


Citizens of Yonderland

by AgBH1



Category: Yonderland (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Random & Short, Side Story, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:35:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28639386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgBH1/pseuds/AgBH1
Summary: A bunch of short ficlets featuring characters in Yonderland who appear only once or a couple of times, just going about their lives.  Tags will be added to over time.
Relationships: Ellis of Woolworth/Christopher Payne
Kudos: 11





	1. A detective no more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leslie John Leslie tries to make up for accusing the mead salesman of murder.  
> \---

The chosen one had returned to her world, Leslie John Leslie had been relieved of the burden of his position as detective, and Mad Donna had been duly arrested. The festival continued on in it’s laid back spirit as night set in. String of paper lanterns were being lit all over the small town, when the former detective returned from saying his goodbyes and repeated thanks to Debbie.

He’d been back barely long enough for one complete song to finish on stage when, to his dismay, he found himself face-to-face with the mead salesman who’d very nearly been condemned to a long jail sentence because of him.

After a prolonged silence, embarrassed on Leslie’s side, and apparently indifferent on that of the mead salesman, Leslie mustered the courage to speak up.

“Hey,” he said, offering a contrite smile, “Look, I’m sorry for the whole accusing you of murder thing.”

The man frowned, for a moment looking as bewildered as if the former detective had just informed him the rising moon was in fact the sun.

“It’s alright, mate,” he said at last, still frowning in confusion.

Evidently he had not expected an apology, and the combination of Lesley’s embarrassment and the salesman’s surprise led to a very awkward silence.

A very long, very awkward silence.

“Can I buy you a drink by way of apology?” Leslie eventually tried, immediately regretting the offer as the other man’s eyebrows raised and his gaze flicked pointedly towards the tray of alcohol in his hands.

“Right,” Leslie bit his lip, “Um, can I buy some mead from you then?”

The man shrugged, “Sure.”

The appropriate amount of valuable metal was placed on the tray, the mead was provided, and with no further reason to remain in each other’s company, the two parted.

Leslie didn’t see the other man for the rest of the festival, or for a long time following the events of that day. He found a new job working in a mill nearby, and very soon gave the mead salesman no more thought than any of the other people he’d accidentally imprisoned.

Well, a little more thought, perhaps, since he felt a strangely greater guilt for knowing that the other man _knew_ he’d been groundlessly accused, whilst the others probably thought there was at least some evidence against them. In fact, some probably thought they’d unwittingly done the crimes. Such had been the depth of faith the people of Yonderland had put in Leslie’s powers as detective.

The next time he ran into the salesman was when out buying drinks for a party he was having at his house that evening. Just a small gathering of colleagues and friends, but since Leslie rarely had guests, he needed to stock up on some interesting and potent alcoholic provisions.

After dismissing his usual stockist of merely semi-decent ale as too everyday for a party, he wandered into a shop stocked with liquor of all sorts, contained in large glass jars and heavy wooden barrels that lined the walls of the small store.

Leaning on the crudely-carved counter and writing in a large, thick book was a man with an eyepatch and a resting cheerful expression. And further behind him, towards the far end of the shop, was the mead salesman himself, currently busy cleaning an array of small glass bottles.

“Good afternoon!” smiled the man with the eyepatch as he finished a line of writing and looked up, “What can I do for--hot sausage! You’re the detective man!”

He had straightened to his full height to make this exclamation, and seemed to absolutely be brimming with excitement.

“Uh, I was,” Leslie replied, “Not anymore though, I…”

“You nearly got Mick here,” gesturing to the mead salesman, “Arrested for murder!”

Leslie would probably have broken into sobbing and/or stammered apologies had it not been for the absurdly entertained way in which the storekeeper said this.

“Good thing the chosen one came along, no?” he laughed, “Mick wouldn’t have lasted a day in jail.”

‘Mick’ looked up with a sharp frown at the eyepatch man, and uttered an “Alright, mate,” so indignant, the ‘t’s that ought to have finished both words were lost entirely.

“Well,” Eyepatch walked from behind the counter, “What can I do for you Mr Former-Detective?”

“Leslie John Leslie,” replied Leslie, “Uh, that’s my name. Not what you can do for me…what I was looking for was some drinks for a party.”

“Well you’re in the right place,” replied the storekeeper, “Our mead is very popular, specially for dinner parties. But, tell you a secret, best drink in the house is this one - grapple eau de vie - use as a mixer or pour over ice cream. Nicest thing you’ve ever tasted. Aren’t I right, Mick?”

The mead salesman looked up from his cleaning, somehow gave the impression of shrugging without actually carrying out the action itself, and offered a noncommittal “If you like.”

Eyepatch rolled his one eye, and poured out a sample of the eau de vie for Lesley to try. And then a sample of another drink, and then another, until before long every drink in the shop had been sampled at least once, and Leslie was feeling less than steady on his feet.

That was probably why he’d ended up inviting the pair of more-or-less complete strangers to his party that night. And it was probably the lingering effects of the eclectic mix of alcohols, supplemented by more recently drunk spirits and ale, that led to his bursting into song at the party.

Three tunes into what had become a medley of Yonderland’s most popular folk songs, it became very apparent that Leslie, the storekeeper Clovis, and Mick harmonised exceptionally well. Soon, what had begun as a general group sing-song turned into a performance.

A performance that continued even after they’d all departed Leslie’s house in favour of the local tavern.

A performance that, several months down the line, culminated in them standing on the very same stage beside which Leslie had accused Mick of murder, in a life-changing moment that seemed now to have taken place many, many quillenia ago.


	2. Independence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the last episode of season 2. The Imperagrad guard who questioned 'working for the man' makes a friend of sorts.  
> \---

Hermann had never wanted anything to do with a realm-destroying robot.

In fact, he didn’t want anything to do with a realm-destroying animal, mineral, vegetable, or otherwise, of any description. When the giant robot marched wayward out of the building, pursued by most of the other guards and Imperatrix herself, he stayed behind, alone in the base but for the few others who had started to develop a sense of individuality. They were mostly elsewhere, in their quarters or the weapons vault, making preparations to flee and try to make new lives for themselves in places where Imperatrix couldn’t find them if she happened to succeed in the whole realm-conquering plan.

So, Hermann was surprised to hear a voice coming from within the laboratory. A nervous, echoing, “Helloo?”

Stepping into the mostly destroyed room, he saw the man to whom the voice belonged. Dressed in a suit, tied to a chair, and looking very much as one would expect a civilian to look after witnessing the genesis of a massive realm-destroying robot.

“Hello,” Hermann said in response, and the man looked at him first in alarm, and then in hope.

“Could you untie me, please?” he asked, “I don’t think I’m needed for the, um, robot thing anymore, so…”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

It was a direct insubordination, but would probably not be noticed. This man was irrelevant in Imperatrix’s scheme now, and besides, Hermann would be far away by the time she or any of those loyal to her returned, provided the realm wasn’t actually destroyed, of course.

He pulled out the standard issue knife from his boot and cut away the ropes with an efficiency so thoroughly trained into him it was habit.  


“Thanks,” the man said, rubbing at his arms where the ropes had been, “I owe you one.”

“Owe?” repeated Hermann, a thought suddenly appearing unbidden in his mind, “Perhaps…”

The man’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps, if you have a place of residence, I might hide there for a time? Until it is certain Imperatrix will not find us who rebel against her.”

The man didn’t think about it for more than a second, before shrugging, “Why not? Do you know the way to Atherley from here?”

“I can find a map.”

“Great,” the man stood up, stretching indulgently and wincing a little, “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, and not much happens, but hey, that's the point of mindless ficlets.


	3. Knight in shining armour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to ship two characters who have never met!  
> \---

If there ever was a way to conclusively demonstrate true love, this was it.

Ellis’s once very lustrous - if he did say so himself - auburn hair was now an indifferent black, and his very precisely trimmed facial hair a thing of the past. Admittedly, the ink he was using to colour his hair would wash out - possibly too quickly if it happened to rain while he was still en route to the evil overlord’s base - and the facial hair would grow back within a matter of weeks.

But, nonetheless, even temporarily suffering the destruction of his ‘look’ was something Ellis would never, not in a quillion years, have done for anyone else.

Nor would he have willingly entered into any action that might require acts of violence. Not now. Not since the chosen one had helped him accept his true nature, opening his eyes and forcing him to confront the reality that he simply was not a knight at heart. And, in truth, that realisation - and with it the acceptance that he didn't truly share his brother's love of women - was what had led to the events about to unfold this night.

Events that could be summarised as the stealthy infiltration of a compound belonging of an up-and-coming evil overlord, all because Ellis’ boyfriend was in there. A hostage, held for a ransom that must never be paid.

It wasn’t that the ransom being demanded was too great to afford, although it was a hefty sum, even for the extremely wealthy Mr Payne.

No, the problem was that to pay it would fund a war chest sufficient to allow this would-be evil overlord to start to exert some power, and the last thing Yonderland needed was another rich and powerful evil-doer, particularly when the realm was still reeling from the reigns of Imperatrix and Cuddly Dick.

The kidnappers had made it clear that to ask help from the Elders or the chosen one would result in the immediate killing of their hostage, and since the ransom must not be paid for the sake of the realm, it was up to Ellis of Woolworth to save the day.

And, if in doing so, he happened to prove himself to his boyfriend’s irascible father, then two birds and all that...after all, on Chris’ insistence and because of his fear of disappointing his father, Mr Payne didn’t know about their relationship. If it was presented as a fact in conjunction with the return of his only son and best business negotiator, then Mr Payne might take the whole thing a lot more favourably.

It had taken almost a week for Ellis to figure out where Chris had been taken, and he’d only actually ‘figured it out’ by stalking one of the kidnapper's officers back to their base after they'd delivered the latest in a string of threats intended to force Mr Payne to pay the ransom.

The grey, angular, utterly dull building that Ellis, Marks, and Spencer followed the kidnapper back to was near the edge of Hitherland, possibly even a now-abandoned outpost of one of the former evil overlord. It was surprisingly heavily guarded given that this new would-be overlord was, well, new.

It would have been obvious to someone with far less military experience than Ellis that the only way to get inside without getting Chris, himself, or any of the guards killed was to use a disguise.

And all the on-duty guards Ellis had seen at the base, as well as those off-duty ones he'd passed in the nearby town on his way, were clean-shaven and black-haired. That was why Ellis was now sitting in a dingy upstairs room of an inn in the nearby village with his hair covered in black ink.

Three sharp knocks on the door, followed by two quieter ones, and Ellis knew his former page and his former page had returned from their 'mission' in the tavern downstairs. Although more-or-less having given up the knight lifestyle, Ellis had retained his page, and Marks his intern-page, with pretty much the same hierarchy in place, out of both habit and loyalty. Opening the door, Ellis was more grateful for their presence than ever.

The pair stood at the door, beaming with pride and holding out the complete uniform of one of the higher ranking guards from the base - cap, shoes, and all.

Ellis could have kissed them both - they had done their job perfectly. Marks, it turned out, was very good at getting people drunk - he'd chat happily, top up their glass with a casual ease, and generally they'd be on the floor before they'd even realised they'd drunk more than two glasses. Spencer, on the other hand, was the more intelligent of the three, and very good at cards. Between them, the former pages had therefore got one of the off-duty guards drunk, then destroyed him at strip poker, ultimately obtaining his full uniform with relative ease.

Ellis clapped them both on the shoulder in thanks, told them to treat themselves to some ale or wine, and was left alone to dress himself in the ugly off-brown uniform.

It didn't fit perfectly, but it was good enough to serve the purpose. Ellis didn't attract the least attention when he sauntered confidently up to the entrance to the compound, giving the guard on duty an expectant look until he saluted and opened the door.

It was fortunate Ellis had spent so long pretending to be someone he was not - in particular, someone proud, bold, and domineering - for it made the infiltration almost easy. Every single guard Ellis happened to run into blindly conformed to the belief that Ellis was a superior officer, offering him salutes and stepping aside to let him pass in the more narrow hallways. When he informed one guard that he had been instructed 'by the boss' to collect the prisoner, that very guard led him to the cells, pointed out the keys on the wall and the cell with their hostage, and gave no more than a salute when told to get back to his duties, leaving Ellis alone in the cell block.

Ellis spent some time searching for the right key, trying each in turn until he came upon the one that gave a satisfying click when he rotated it. Bolts slid within, echoing off the stone walls, and Ellis pushed the heavy door open, sending a shaft of light into the small, square room.

The light fell onto the bare feet of the prisoner, and cast the rest of him in a soft, uncertain grey. He was on the opposite side of the cell, his hands chained above his head and a leather gag in his mouth.

Chris was still squinting from the sudden influx of light when Ellis stepped quickly inside, barely more than a single stride being enough to bring him into contact with the prisoner. He whispered meaningless reassurances to calm Chris' initial panic following the opening of the door, speaking softly as he gently loosened the gag and let it hang about Chris' neck.

"Ellis," he murmured in a hoarse voice, "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you, of course," came the reply as Ellis started to try the various keys in the chains binding Chris' wrists.

The prisoner smiled a little, "And you said you were a terrible knight."

"I am," Ellis found the key and slotted it in, "But I'm an excellent boyfriend."

The laugh that began to escape Chris' lips was cut off as the chains released their hold, and Chris almost crumpled to the floor at the sudden loss of tension.

"What now?" he asked, steadying himself against the wall, "There are guards everywhere."

"We walk out of here," Ellis replied with a confidence he hoped to sound genuine enough to reassure Chris, "I'm going to put the gag back on, and lead you out as though I was your guard...but, first..."

He pressed a kiss against Chris' lips, intending something gentle and sweet, but ending up with something passionate and desperate. They parted, breathless, and Chris narrowed his eyes, "Could you not have saved that for later? You know, when we are in a position to...pursue the matter further...?"

"Anticipation is part of the thrill," Ellis teased, before pressing a kiss against Chris' forehead and replacing the gag in his mouth.

Getting back out of the base was no more difficult than breaking in had been, but it was far, far more nerve wracking. Ellis had handcuffed Chris with some manacles that were hanging from one of the cell walls, and led him by the arm through the passageways, making the appearance of forcibly dragging the prisoner whilst in fact helping to hold his tired and injured partner upright. They gained some curious looks from other guards now, and more than once Ellis had needed to give an explanation of his actions - he was moving the prisoner in preparation for the ransom exchange. Boss’ orders. He’d even had to snap angrily at one guard who persisted in questioning of this claim.

But at last they made it outside, into the bracing morning air, with dawn only just whispering on the horizon. They didn't stop moving, however, until the base was entirely hidden from view, and they had reached the prearranged rendezvous point for meeting Marks and Spencer. A clearing deep within the woods nearby, but near enough the town for their eventual escape by way of taxi.

Only then, in the relative safety of that spot, did Ellis finally untie Chris, almost immediately capturing his lips in an eager kiss that Chris met with equal desire.

An eager kiss disrupted this time not by the need to make haste, but by a pointed cough from the two former pages, who neither Ellis nor Chris had noticed standing barely a yard from them.

Ellis flushed, clearing his throat awkwardly, while Chris looked quickly away in embarrassment.

And then he frowned.

"You know," he said, turning back and reaching up with both hands to grasp Ellis' lapel, "I don't care. Do you care?"

Ellis grinned, "I certainly do not."

"Good."

With that, Chris tugged him back down into a deep, lingering kiss.


	4. Dawn of a new age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first five days of the Age of Enlightenment. Ninny names other than Dave and Tom are obviously made up at random.  
> \---

**Day one: The doors to the hall of wisdom are thrown open**

Scrolls and books filled the shelves and covered the table, each brimming with a wealth of information long forgotten by Ninny kind. It was a sight that none of them had even beheld, and they were almost too struck by awe to do anything but stare or brush away dust for several minutes. So many books with titles they didn't understand, and scrolls with diagrams of machines beyond their comprehension.

The hall of wisdom was a small space, and only a part of the village could fit in at a time. The first to enter - those slightly higher on the intelligence scale, and of course their new Hoo-Ha - selected a few volumes each to bring out into the illumination of the sun and read, sitting in the street, and on walls, steps, and carts.

It wasn’t long before every member of the village had at least one book or scroll to hand. The silence that usually hung over the village - a consequence of being unable to preserve thought processes long enough to hold conversation - was replaced with murmurs of excited talk. Ninnies telling each other what they'd just learned. Not quite discussing it - that would have to come - but at least passing the knowledge on.

When the evening drew in to darken the sky, and the hall of wisdom was locked for the day, the books were returned with all due reverence. After all, the books were given to them by the sun gods. For the first time, at least so far as any of the Ninnies could remember, the villagers spent the evening outside, talking together, exchanging knowledge and ideas. It was a good start to the new age of Ninny-kind.

After everyone retired to their homes, Dave returned to the hall of wisdom. It was his duty to read all the books therein, and there were a lot of books. So, armed with a lantern found in the hall itself, he sat up to read well into the night.

**Day two: Things start to get generally better**

Every Ninny in Ninny village had made an immediate start on improving their lives, and that of the village as a whole, within hours of the hall opening that morning. There was so much wisdom in the books, and so little in their own heads, that every page seemed to be offering a lecture on how to remedy some inconvenience or other.

Replacing square wheels with circular ones had come very early in the process because it was an easy concept to grasp. The idea that the shiny see-through stones were the valuable ones had taken a little longer, since Terry, who usually did the work of separating waste from non-waste material coming out of the mine, preferred the appearance of the grey rocks.

Now, having finally managed to convince the other Ninny of the relative values of the two types of rock, Dave was wandering through the village back towards the hall of wisdom, when he came across one of the others sitting forlorn on the steps leading (at last) up to his doorway.

“What’s wrong, Eric?” Dave asked, sorry to see his friend looking sad. Ninnies hadn't really had much capacity for complex emotions, and both seeing and experiencing one made Dave uneasy.

“Mary’s not answering the door,” came the solemn reply, “And I don’t have a key.”

“Oh,” Dave looked at the door in question thoughtfully. He might be the most intelligent of the Ninnies, and considerably more intelligent today than he had been yesterday, but thought processes that required extrapolating between the present and past were still a struggle, and there was something about the possibility of Mary actually opening the door that wasn’t quite right. Something to do with events that happened a long time ago, although Dave didn’t know what they were or why Mary shouldn't be expected there.

He carried on staring at the door in silence, with the other Ninny looking up at him expectantly.

Then, at last, it made sense.

Dave frowned and looked back at Eric, “Mary doesn’t live here.”

“She doesn’t?”

Dave shook his head and Eric looked blank.

“She never lived here.” Dave continued, still frowning as he tried to sort through the vague memory.

“But she was here,” came the reply, “She made tea.”

Dave nodded, “Yes...but she was only here for one night, wasn’t she?”

Eric’s brow furrowed.

“There was that mean man who wanted to take the temple of the sun gods. He said he was a temple collector, but Tom said we shouldn’t tell him about the sun cannon as he wasn’t a clever, and so they stayed one night and left early in the morning to look for the temple.”

This accurate, if poorly formulated explanation, was enough to jog Eric’s memory after a period of several minutes. He looked down, a little dejected, and muttered a quiet “Oh…”

Feeling a sudden guilt at having brought his friend’s spirits even lower, Dave said that, “Maybe they’ll come back now that the hall of wisdom has opened.”

Eric brightened, “Do you think?”

“Yes,” Dave replied happily, then as he turned to leave another realisation hit him, “Have you tried opening your door?”

Eric had not.

He tried, and it opened - no key necessary. In fact, there was no keyhole for a key.

Dave left him to enjoying access to his home once more, and carried on his way.

Next time he stopped, it was at one of the entrances to the mine. It was clear now that the gems in the tunnels they had been inefficiently digging were extremely valuable, and so needed to be stored somewhere safe. And evaluated so they could figure out how much to sell them for. And then they needed to find people to sell them to...but, that could wait...Dave found his mind had a habit of running along too many distracting routes.

For now, move the gems somewhere safe. That was the job.

At the moment, they were just lying in a pile in the street, which didn’t seem very clever.

Dave was no good at construction himself, but some of the other Ninnies were. Even in a state of stupidity, they had managed to build carts - granted with inappropriately shaped wheels - and...well, that was pretty much all they’d managed to build. But now, with books to hand, they’d be able to do better. And right now, they needed some way to safely store what Dave now realised was their very considerable wealth.

He went to find Lucy and Adam, who had made most of their carts, and explained the problem. The three of them together then searched the hall of wisdom for guidance until they came across the blueprints for a crude ‘safe’ - not the most secure type they’d encountered in the books, but the only one they had the tools to make now. So Dave left them working away on this new safe, took up a book on market forces, and retired to his favourite reading spot by the main mine to spend the rest of the day amassing knowledge to the quiet background noises of construction and talk - the sounds of progress.

**Day three: Sackcloth is traded for less-sack-shaped sackcloth**

Dave had finished three books on finances and marketing, and was taking a small diversion to delve into the realm of tailoring.

With a pile of sackcloth - the only fabric to be found in the Ninny village - beside him, and some needle and thread, he was armed with several books to help him to start working out how to make proper clothes. The thought had occurred to him the night before as he huddled under his bed sheets, curled up against the cold, and found himself thinking back to travellers and visitors he’d seen wearing clothes that looked far warmer than his own garment.

So, when dawn broke, he went to the hall of wisdom - outside opening hours...the perks of being the one with the key - and found a collection of books with titles that looked relevant. Then he gathered all the spare cloth and thread he could find, and the rusty needle he’d used a long time ago to try and alter his personal sack (only succeeding so far as to make it less comfortable). Finally, with the sun just starting to warm the village, he took up his seat by the mine, and got to work.

Without means to measure any dimensions, Dave just followed the patterns using whatever pieces of sackcloth he had available.

By midday he’d crafted two dresses in very different sizes, and a pair of trousers that fit him pretty well.

Soon, seeing what he was up to, other Ninnies joined in, especially after the first two dresses had been given out, and their owners now walked about looking far more stylish than any of the other Ninnies.

By evening, the entire village had at least a reasonable approximation to proper clothes, and they were collectively delighted in the improvement.

Dave slept cosily that night, warm in his long-sleeved shirt.

**Day four: Trade is established**

Now looking collectively far more respectable in their new clothes, and armed with both efficiently functioning wheelbarrows and a knowledge of the relative value of goods, the Ninnies were ready to leave the village and start trading with nearby towns.

Terry and Malcom went out on the first trade expedition, having read the most books on the subject, and took with them just a small sack of precious stones. It was test run - just to see what goods there were nearby that the Ninnies wanted, and how much they could convince others to pay for the precious rocks.

The pair were bid goodbye at the edge of the village, with all the Ninnies assembled to watch them head out into the world of commerce. Dave couldn’t help but feel a touch of apprehension mingled with his excitement - it was a dangerous realm, and Ninnies were not fighters. But, they had to go out, to connect with other places, or they’d never flourish. And, Terry and Malcom weren’t going far...just to the town with lots of cottages beyond the wood.

**Day five: The Ninnies learn the value of walls  
**

It turned out that being in possession of a considerable wealth of precious stones, and not giving these away gratis, could cause some people to become rather hostile.

Dave first learned this from the anger of the three small demons who came looking for the gems again not long after the hall of wisdom had been opened. They’d been irritated, but not threatening, and were more concerned with something about employees and months, than arguing with Dave’s request for payment, and ultimately left empty handed.

It was on the fifth day of the new age that he gained a far more valuable lesson in how unpleasant people could be when seeking out wealth.

He was contentedly examining the pages of text and annotated diagrams in a book on fixing roofs, when a shadow fell in the way of the sun.

He looked up with curiosity rather than the apprehension that would have been more appropriate given the menacing expression and towering stature of the five men standing above him.

“Can I help you?” he asked, mentally thanking the sun gods that all their valuable rocks had been safely stored away by now.

The nearest to him grinned, and in a gruff voice demanded some of those shiny rocks.

Dave repeated what he’d said to the demons, “How would you like to pay for those?”

This was met with a general laugh from the group, “Oh, we won’t be payin’ for them.”

“Then you won’t be having them.” Dave replied calmly.

“I don’ think you heard him, mate.” Growled another.

“Yes, I did,” Dave said, putting down his book to give the intimidating men his full attention.

The first reached down and grabbed the front of Dave’s jacket, hauling him to his feet.

“If you won’t give ‘em to us,” he growled, “We’re just gonna have to take them.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dave saw a movement - Adam and Steve had tucked themselves into a doorway, and were for some reason waving sacks at him.

Dave frowned, then as the realisation came, he looked up at the man holding his clothes, and offered a not-at-all-cheeky smile, "Follow me."

The man released him with a shove, and Dave started to lead them towards the doorway. As they walked past it, the two Ninnies hidden in it jumped out, threw sacks over the two men at the back of the group, and pulled them to the ground - the very same technique they'd used to kidnap the chosen one.

The man at the front of the group, nearest Dave, had no chance to react as Lucy dropped a plank of wood on his head from the archway above.

The two men left, spinning to see what had happened behind, turned almost straight into a wooden pole, brandished by Eric.

In less than a minute, all five were either tied up in sacks or unconscious, and the Ninnies stood around in mixed triumph and confusion.

"What now?" asked Adam.

Dave thought about it for a moment, "Build a wall?"

That very afternoon, plans for the wall were drawn up, complete with a grand gate and gold-threaded doorbell. A truly magnificent tribute to this new Age of Enlightment.


End file.
